


Dodgers vs. Red Sox

by Whiskey_cokenfanfic23



Category: Chris Evans - Fandom, chris evans rpf - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 00:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskey_cokenfanfic23/pseuds/Whiskey_cokenfanfic23
Summary: Chris and the reader watch the World Series where the Red Sox lose. The reader starts to gloat and Chris isn't happy about that.Smut at the end.





	Dodgers vs. Red Sox

“And here comes the pitch. And the Dodgers have won the World Series.”

You stood up and cheered, dancing around the living room. Your boyfriend, Chris, sat on the couch with a stony look on his face. 

“The Dodgers have beaten the Red Sox!” The announcer said over the tv.

“Fuck yeah, they did!” You crowed, jumping up and down.

“Are you going to do this all night?” Chris asked, watching you do your ridiculous victory dance.

“I don’t know. Did my team just whoop your team’s ass?”

He sighed and got up, stepping around you, shaking his head.

“Oh, c’mon, baby, don’t be like that!”

“Nah, you just keep dancing around, I’m going to bed.”

“Dude, seriously, it’s just a game… That you guys lost!” 

He walked away, with a frown on his face, towards your bedroom. 

“Chris, Chris, okay, okay. I’ll stop.” You said, following him.

He walked into the room, slamming the door in your face. You stood there shocked and a little angry. You were just cheering on your team and he acted like this? 

Trying the knob, you walked in the room.

“I  _ know _ you didn’t just slam the door in my face!”

He didn’t say anything. He just laid on the bed flipping through the channels on the tv. You went and stood in front of it, trying to make him look at you.

“Okay, I know you heard me.”

He just shifted on the bed, so he could see around you. He still had that angry look on his face. You knew he was a Red Sox fan, but you had no idea that he was going to behave like this when his team lost. When the Patriots had beaten your team during football season, you took the loss with grace and equimanity, only throwing a pillow at his head when he jumped around cheering.

“Christopher! You’re being really childish right now!”

That got his attention. He turned off the tv, tossing the remote to the side. “ _ I’m _ being childish? Who was the one jumping around like a kid just a few minutes ago?”

“Oh, like you don’t get that way when your team wins!”

“Yeah, but I don’t dance around like an idiot.”

“Uh, yes you do!” 

“No, I don’t.”

“Look, I’m not going back and forth with you, just because you’re a sore loser.”

He jumped off the bed. “I’m not being a sore loser.”

“Yeah you are. Acting like a baby.”

You two went back and forth like this for a while. You had never really argued over sports but his behavior had you heated and you weren’t about to back down now. His attitude wasn’t about to ruin your good time at your team winning the World Series. 

“Whatever, Y/N.” He said. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Fine,” You went into the bathroom and slammed the door. Slamming stuff around just to make noise so he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Yeah, you were being childish, but he started it. 

Coming out the bathroom in just a shirt, you saw him lying on his side, his back tense, but determined not to look at you. 

“Can you scoot over?” you asked trying to get into bed. He was planted firmly in the middle and didn’t answer.

“Chris, move!” You shoved his back, knowing you couldn’t move him, but trying anyway. 

Still nothing. Frustrated, you took a pillow and hit him.

He rolled over then, glaring at you.

Angry, you hit him again. He grabbed the pillow and hit you back. You grabbed another and hit him some more, leading to a full fledged pillow fight. 

Soon, he had you pinned on the bed, his knees on either side of your hips. He had discarded the pillow and was tickingling you mercilessly. You laughed until the tears ran down your cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I give!” You said trying to squirm out from under him.

“Say it!” he said still tickling you.

“No!” You squealed.

He tickled you more. “Go on, say it. I’m not gonna stop til you do.”

“Fine.” You gasped out. “The Sox are the best.”

He stopped tickling you, laughing. You were glad he was laughing, but you pouted anyway.

“You’re mean.” 

He laughed again and leaned down kissing your pouting lips. 

“You love me.” He said and kissed you again.

You sighed and smiled. “Yeah, sometimes.” 

He rolled off you and laid back on the bed and closed his eyes. You weren’t finished with him yet; he still owed you an apology for the way he acted and he was going to make it up to you.

You climbed on top on him, so he could see the shirt you had worn to bed. You poked him in the chest and he opened on eye to look at you. 

“What are you wearing?”

You looked down at your Dodgers t-shirt and shrugged. “What? This old thing?”

He started to sit up and you shifted so you wouldn’t fall off his lap; your faces inches apart. You smiled.

“Take it off.” He growled.

“Make me.” 

In a flash he had the shirt off and over your head, leaving you completely naked. He smirked and tossed the shirt to the floor. You shifted in his lap again, feeling his growing erection underneath you.

He kissed you again as you started grinding down on his lap, moaning at the friction, and wanting more. 

Breaking the kiss, he took his shirt off. You kissed and sucked his neck, moving down his chest. Kissing and licking, and biting. You stopped at the waistband of his briefs. He moaned and moved his hips, wanting you to continue. Taking his briefs off, you stroked his erection with your fingers. You leaned over and kissed the tip. Then swirled the precum around with your tongue. He reclined back on his elbows, excited for what he knew was coming. He loved the things you did with your mouth. 

But you had another idea in mind. You stopped abruptly and sat up. 

“You know,” You began, playing with his cock, swirling your thumb around the tip. “You owe me an apology.” 

He groaned. 

You climbed back on top of him. He could feel your heat and wetness and wanted to be inside you. He moved his hips trying to navigate towards your entrance.

“Just apologize, babe and you can have it.”

With another groan he flipped you over on your back. 

Sliding down your body, he spread your legs and began kissing up your thighs repeating “I’m sorry” between each kiss.

When he reached your heated core, he licked up your wet slit, causing you to squirm. You bucked your hips up towards his face wanting him to continue. He placed your thighs on his shoulders, pushing them up, and latched onto your clit. Sucking on it, he caused you to moan loudly. He slid a finger inside you, finding that spot deep inside and hitting it. 

“Fuck! Chris!” You yelled, as you came for the first time/

He climbed back up your body and lined himself up at your entrance. Sliding inside you he asked “Am I forgiven.”

You nodded.

“Nah-uh, baby, use your words.”

“Yes, baby, I forgive you.” You moaned.

“Good.” And he began moving in and out of you. 

He hooked one thigh over his arm and started moving faster.

“You feel so good,Y/N baby. So so good.”

“Chris, I’m close.” 

So was he. He picked up the pace. Letting your leg go and leaning forward on his arms. Reaching between the two of you he rubbed your clit; still sensitive from your first orgasm, it sent you over the edge.

Chris was not too far behind you. Spilling inside of you, he collapsed lightly on top of you. After catching his breath, he kissed you and then rolled off. 

He wrapped his arms around you, ready to drift off to sleep. You were glad the fight was over. But there was one thing you still couldn’t let go.

“Chris, baby?”

“Yeah?” 

“You know, I was thinking and…”

“What is it?” he asked sleepily.

“The Dodgers still whooped Sox ass.”

This time he just laughed and kissed your shoulder.

“We’ll get ‘em next year.” 

 


End file.
